From A Secret Admirer
by Hydra no Mago
Summary: Alfred is as popular as they come, but a certain letter has caught his interest. It reads 'From a Secret Admirer', and Alfred can't help but wonder and hope if said admirer is also his long-time crush. (Gakuen Hetalia AU, AlfredXArthur / USUK, and some other minor pairings)
1. Because, because, because

**This is based on Gakuen Hetalia and centres around Alfred(America) and Arthur(England). **  
><strong>Happy reading!<strong>

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><p><span><strong>From A Secret Admirer<strong>

**Chapter 1: Because, because, because**

One conclusion could always be drawn from history classes: It was the most boring subject in the entire world. Except of course, if the teacher was discussing something about the American Revolution and how they gained independence or the fact that America had a really rapid growth spurt, managing to be under the rule of another for only ten years. That would be awesome.

Today, the teacher was babbling on about the spice trade or something along those lines. History when America was definitely not involved. Oh, joy. He could feel his eyes steadily drooping to the steady rhythm of his teacher's rants, slowly drifting off into the land of dreams where he might hopefully meet his alien friend Tony.

Usually, Alfred would have already been to his said friend's place, if not for one unbidden thought:

The love letter which he had received shortly after break.

He couldn't say it was much of a surprise. Frankly, Alfred was the Golden Boy of the school, girls fawned over him and guys wanted to be his best friends all the time. The teachers might not have put him on a pedestal, but they had a certain liking towards his open demeanour. Hey, who could resist his boyish charms and totally awesome personality? Except maybe, that student council president with a stick up his ass who tends to berate him for everything he does, but that is besides the point.

It would be crazy to say that sometimes Alfred would try to catch said president's eye by bending some school rules or make a fool out of himself during lunch. Or say that Alfred was attracted to those brilliantly green eyes which turned acidic when angered and that sharp tongue when he was scolding another or that sexy british accent... Yes, it would be crazy to say so.

So it would be that Alfred F. Jones was pondering over his latest love letter during history lesson. Most times, a love letter left on his table would just be politely skimmed through and end up in the trash as soon as he reached home, but this particular one seemed to be special. There was something about it, something which made him read it carefully, soaking up every word with his blue eyes, imprinting it in his brain. There was just this **something**, something which held Alfred tightly in its clutches and would not let go.

He turned his gaze to the history teacher who looked bored as she continued with her droning, even though half the class had their attention elsewhere. The only ones who were remotely listening to whatever jargon she had this time was his sweet, timid twin brother, Matthew and the ever hardworking aforementioned president, Arthur Kirkland. He was diligently taking notes as he listened with rapt attention to the lesson. Was it just Alfred or was there an odd sparkle in his green eyes? Excitement was it? Nah, it couldn't be.

Seeing as no one would be brought back to the world of the living within the nest quarter of an hour, Alfred slipped the love letter from his trouser pocket underneath the thick history textbook. One more read would not hurt.

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><p><em>I heard that you liked girls who are shorter than you. Perhaps I should start getting rid of my heel stuffing and start wearing flat sneakers tomorrow, even if it will be a weekend? <em>

_Well, you see, it is because if I run into you at the convenience store you frequent or something, I would be thoroughly prepared. There is an obligation for me to think about these things to keep my sanity when I unwillingly meet you. _

_Going that far... even if I get you to like me by doing that, wouldn't I no longer be myself? Wouldn't I be moulding myself into one of those stereotypic girls who hang about you? Oh well. I suppose it would be moderately fine. It's not like I just do this for anyone. _

_I like you so much, I just can't help it. I want to suit your tastes better, I want to be closer to what you like. Is this self-transformation wrong? Changing myself just for you, is this an abnormality? _

_Why? Why? Why? Why must I do so?  
><em>

_Because, because, because... that's just how much I want this love come true. _

_When our eyes meet, I get so embarrassed. I tend to pretend like I'm looking far away. But even when I avert my eyes, I still try to keep you in the corner of my vision. Just to be sure. _

_But when I think about it, just by doing that, maybe, just maybe, you were looking at me. A little bit, a little bit perhaps. Were you? "No, it's just a misunderstanding.." "No, it's just your imagination.." I say to myself, because if I keep my hopes up, I'll end up crying again with a hollow chest in my heart. _

_I love you so much that you even manage to appear in my dreams. Weird is it not? But even when you appear in my dreams, I look away. I'm so stupid, aren't I? Averting my gaze from you, even when I know full well I'm just dreaming. _

_Why, why, why? Why do I still write this letter to you? _

_Because, because, because..._

_I love you so much, so so much, I can't help it. I want to be closer to what you like, I want to make you happy. I like you and there's nothing I can do, so all I can achieve is to grow more confident. Surely, someday, I want to tell you. But please wait for now, as I'm afraid to rush my feelings on you. I'm scared I'll mess up my only chance._

_Once again, I couldn't say "I like you" as a start, not even today. _

_Because I can't say "I love you" yet, I'll lock these feelings away in my heart for now. Because, because, because, I don't want to fail. I definitely want to fulfil this love. _

_I want to make this love come true. _

_From,  
>A secret admirer.<em>

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><p>He turned the letter over in his hand, touching the edges of the white paper. Whoever this 'secret admirer' was, she was different. No fancy paper was used, no elaborate envelopes or spraying of perfume. No ribbons, sparkles, glitter, flowers or any trace of pink ink either. The handwriting itself was neat, almost businesslike, instead of the twirly cursive he normally received.<p>

Alfred had a nagging feeling at the back of his brain, one which he was at a loss to acknowledge or not. Was the writer of this letter possibly a guy? It was surprising, but not shocking since the whole school knew that Alfred swung both ways. He was teased at the beginning, but never advanced into bullying or worse things.

Another thought, though for this one he dare not hope nor would he try to reject it completely, for he would lose his mind. Would the writer of this letter possibly be... be the infamous Arthur Kirkland...? No, no, no! It couldn't possibly be! There was no way in heaven or hell that the Arthur Kirkland, model student and feisty little Brit would send him a letter such as this!

… Would he?

He shook his head repeatedly, making the stray cowlick on his head bob up and down. Clearing his throat, he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and tried to rid himself of the tell-tale blush climbing up his cheeks and neck.

For a moment, for a very brief moment, he thought he caught a speck of green out of the corner of his eye.

Yet it was gone by the time he realised it.

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><p><strong>End of the first chapter! There will be about three in total.<br>****Thank you for reading this story! I hope you have enjoyed it and will stick around for the next few updates (I promise to do so as soon as I can).  
><strong>**Any requests, suggestions and rants could be made by sending me a PM or through my FB account by the same name.**

**Until next time! **


	2. My Unrequited Feelings For You

**From A Secret Admirer**

**Chapter 2 : My Unrequited Feelings For You**

It was nothing short of a miracle. A godsend miracle.

For the past few weeks, the Golden Boy of the school, Alfred F. Jones was having tutoring lessons with his sworn enemy, the student council president, Arthur Kirkland. 'It was amazing that the two of them had yet to kill each other' was quickly becoming the general idea amongst the students of the school, seeing as the both of them constantly play a game of cat and mouse when it comes to discipline problems.

However, the past few weeks for Alfred had been a nerve-wrecking, heart-pounding, light headed trial. He simply could not keep his eyes off the other male, his gaze would shift unconsciously to the cute big brows or spindly fingers or the soft pink lips. Whenever those striking green eyes met his, his heart would skip a beat, lodging itself in his throat and rendering him speechless. Alfred was thankful that he had not jumped the poor boy yet.

It all started with his very unfortunate results. Matthew, being the loving and responsible twin that he was, took one glance at his brother's report card and promptly tutted. His grades were slipping, fast. It was a complete landslide when it came to the English Language, even if it was Alfred's mother tongue. His excuse? Literature was as boring as History was.

Well, that did not please Matt for sure. The very next day, he had paired Alfred up with the infamous Arthur Kirkland, his long time crush, and made the two agree into tutoring each other (how in the world Matt had managed to do so, Alfred didn't want to know. His brother was downright scary and manipulative sometimes). Turns out, Arthur had some very, very big trouble with Math. Sure, he could calculate, memorise formulas and all that junk, but he could never get the concept down pat. Thus began their unlikely conquest as friends.

Two fortnights later, no one would even deem it odd to sometimes see the president and the jock walking down the halls together, bickering incessantly.

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><p><em>"Actually, there is a girl I like," you had told me casually, after we finally became closer friends than ever. "So am I just a friend?" is the question blatantly written on my face, but I try my hardest not to be discerned by you. Nor can you read any emotion on my part. Am I too unemotional or are you the oblivious one? <em>

_"Actually, I really like you. Really, really like you." Yet I can't bring myself to say it out loud. I don't want to do something insensible and then get hated by you, for I don't think I could take it, not when we have progressed this far. There is still a subtle distance between us, and time seems to stop when I realise that you have never once liked me the way I like you. However, I cannot abruptly bring myself to hate you._

_Judging from your expression as you walk next to me, I guess you must be thinking about that girl and was smiling brightly from it. No longer able to keep looking at your happy face, I slowed down my pace to a crawl. I walked behind you to one side at an angle of about 30 degrees. As such, we were unable to see each other's facial expression and kept our respective positions._

_I don't know anymore. _

_I don't know. I don't know what I should do. There's no answer. Where will my insuppressible emotions escape? My thoughts for you are unrequited, but I don't want to give up yet. Was I the only one who thought the distance between our love had shrunk? Was I the only one stupid enough to believe in fairytales and miracles? _

_But since I don't want you to hate me, and I want to stay around you, I shall lock away my feelings and say, "I'll be rooting for you!"_

_Should I stop liking you already? Although we have finally bridged most of the gap between us, I could still feel some distance threatening to break us apart. We are so close and yet so distant. _

_Should I just stop seeing you? Should I quit being your friend? Should I stop the hurt spreading like a virus in my body? But I am unable to even sort out my own feelings just yet. _

_Around midnight, you had called me: "I need some advice from you." said you, without knowing my true feelings. "If only you understand a girl's heart better, maybe your love will work out?" was my curt answer, wanting to hear little about your crush, for jealousy and pain were eating up my entire being. _

_Of course, there is no way in heaven or hell I can just bluntly tell you that._

_I don't know. _

_I don't know. I don't know what I should do. There's no answer. Where will my insuppressible emotions escape? My thoughts for you are unrequited, but I don't want to give up yet. Was I the only one who thought the distance between our love had shrunk? Was I the only one who thought we had a chance? _

_I don't know. _

_I don't know. I don't know if I should still like you. We have met each other, but will my feelings be returned in the near future? Will I be loved? _

_My thoughts for you are unrequited, but that is fine, for I want us to stay friends at the very least. But it's all like a dream. I wish one day you'd become aware of my feelings._

_But since I don't want you to hate me, and I want to stay around you, I shall lock away my feelings and say, "I'm sure everything will turn out fine!"_

_From,  
><em>_A secret admirer._

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><p>A letter was once again delivered to his tabletop, folded prim paper with neat writing. It was once again, delivered after break when Alfred had gone to the cafeteria. None of his friends knew who the mystery person was, and he didn't bother to let them read the letter at all. It was something personal to him, much more personal than any of the other letters which could be easily discarded.<p>

This time, it seemed that the writer was in great pain. _That's an understatement and you know it Jones. _Alfred grumbled at his very nosy conscience. Yes, it was true that the writer was experiencing jealousy and immense hurt. He felt guilty and sorry for that person, but he couldn't lift a finger to make it better because he still didn't know who it was.

_Liar._ teased his conscience. _You and I know exactly who is it. You're just afraid to admit it. _The American huffed indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest in a protective manner. He had a hunch who it was, but it could never possibly be him! Plus, he had never called Arthur in the middle of the night to discuss any problems! Okay, maybe there was that one time where he got really depressed after losing a football game to Westbarnister High, but that's a completely different topic! Again, Arthur was also completely bad at math, so how would he calculate the degree of walking distances between two people? Yes, he may have let slip that he liked someone with a sassy attitude to Arthur once, but he never mentioned it was a girl. And yes, the president had even said that he would support Alfred's choices, but it didn't mean that this letter was from Arthur!... Right?

With a loud _Bang!_ Alfred dropped his head onto his desk, whining about secret admirers and beautiful yet untouchable angels until Arthur smacked him on the head for disrupting the start of another boring class.

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><p><strong>2nd chapter is done!<br>Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it, dear readers! I would also like to thank you for following and reviewing this story. It's motivation for me to write faster!  
><strong>**Any suggestions or rants can be made by sending me a PM or to my FB account by the same name.  
><strong>**Onwards to the next chapter!**


	3. Heartbreak Headlines

**From A Secret Admirer**

**Chapter 3 : Heartbreak Headlines**

After receiving the second letter from his mysterious admirer, Alfred found that his relationship with Arthur began to strain. There were more stiff smiles, controlled laughter and polite conversations than he ever dreamed of. It was as if all the weeks they spent together as friends were slowly dissolving into nothingness. Nowadays, the green-eyed beauty would not even spare him a glance in the hallways whether or not he was about to break the rules.

In a way, Alfred felt suffocated. Arthur's voice was scarcely heard and his smiles were diminishing, bringing Alfred a sense of trepidation. Being on the receiving end of the forced courtesy was driving him up the wall. This was not the Arthur he knew. This was not the Arthur he hung out with. This was not the Arthur he fell in love with.

The weeks flitted by with no signs of the storm which had brewed clearing. The gloomy weather outside did nothing to cheer up his spirits either as he watched the world from a window. His friends and classmates knew he was in a bad mood, they knew that there was something wrong with him but they did nothing to lift his dark aura. Alfred still talked to Arthur somewhat about school, but he was back to admiring the green-eyed beauty from afar. His heart clenched painfully at the thought of losing Arthur as his friend, hoping, praying that it would never happen.

Winter was fast approaching, meaning the school prom was nearing as well. Tension grew amongst the students, with young bachelors plucking up their courage to ask out the blooming flowers of youth. While his mates were out preparing for their big dance of the year, Alfred sat at his desk like always, preferring to wallow in his self pity. For the record, it had been a few days since he had properly talked to Arthur. He had much work to accomplish as the student council president, work in which Alfred had no part in. The last time he tried to help, he was unceremoniously snapped at by a work flooded Arthur and chased out of the student council office by Francis, the vice.

Taking off his glasses, Alfred breathed noisily through his nostrils, exhaling a heavy sigh. With his head thrown back and legs stretched out, he decided a nap was in order to re-energise himself so he stopped his mini self-deprecating pity party. After all, he needed to keep his thoughts from constantly straying to a certain feisty blond.

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><p><em>Hey, do you want to know something?<em>

_The annual number of broken-hearted people is about 12,000,000. That would mean about 23 people are dumped per minute! Isn't that shocking? Even at this very moment, a precious love is lost somewhere in our country. _

_The government is constantly asked to provide solutions for that, lest their people have a higher tendency to commit suicide. Might be a scene from the movie Purgatory, minus the crazy killers who come out during Halloween. _

_((*For your information, the number is not based on any accurate surveys or exact statistics. There is proof however, that love hurts. Even more so, love which is not reciprocated.))_

_If there is a kind of love that **you** can save by loving someone, if all it takes is to love that person who is in love with you back, then your pure love might just change this world. _

_Maybe._

_For example, if I meet a girl on the street who steals my heart and then suddenly disappears in front of me right after, what do you think would transpire? Surely I would be torn apart from head to toe. I would not be able to do a thing and the domestic production of our country will be less than average year, assuming that I am a white-collared business man working for the government in near future. _

_((*For your information, the assumption has no clear basis or solid proof. It's just a hypothesis which makes a lot of sense.))_

_If you think that loving someone who loves you will not be able to change your destiny, then you are sorely mistaken. But if you continue to love a person who does not love you, well, that is just another normal occurrence, is it not? _

_As someone who loves to play hero and act in a thou-art-mightier way, I trust that your love is pure and would be willing to change the world with it. Maybe it will be harder than you originally thought and sacrifices might have to be made, but it is up to you whether to deem it worthy or not. _

_If you love someone that saves yourself, even better. Just remember that fate lies in your hands, and you have the power to decide whether you want to accept a drastic change which will hurt others or stick to a safer choice which will only cost the other party's love. _

_All in all, have some advice: choose wisely. _

_From,  
>A secret admirer.<em>

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><p>The person must have been very quiet when they delivered the letter. Alfred had only woken up from a short nap, spanning only for a short recess. He would have still been asleep, if it wasn't for Matthew who practically knocked him out of his chair to wake him. The letter was delivered on his desk, white paper with neat handwriting. The content this time, … it was weird.<p>

Reading it over again, Alfred scrunched up his nose at the very roundabout way of wanting to convey a message. He was never good with difficult words and long sentences, unlike Arthur or Matthew. Numbers were far more simpler than those. After scanning the letter so many times the page was crinkled under his grasp, Alfred relented that he did not truly understand a word which the writer wanted to say.

In his mind, he ran through a quick lists of people whom he could show this letter to, not get ridiculed or pitied, not show the same expression of confusion and was definitely not Arthur Kirkland whom he had the hots for and whom he suspected to be the author of said letter. All his thoughts only led to one conclusion: Matthew.

As much as he didn't like the thought of sharing these letters, Matthew was his brother and the only one who could help him at this point. So he relented. He showed his twin the letters and told him his suspicions and doubts. He was hoping his brother might make some kind of big deal about it, but Matthew sat eerily still in his chair, reading through three pieces of paper as cool as a cucumber.

"Alfred," began his twin. "the one who sent this is probably trying to ask you to make a choice and stick with it."

The blue-eyed male snorted. "Yeah, Mattie, I can tell that much." He crossed his arms over a well-toned chest. "All I wanna know is what choice he wants me ta make. It's weird, yanno? I have no idea what he's talking about."

Matthew cocked his head to the side. "You keep on saying 'him'... how do you know it's not a 'her', eh?"

"No, I got a feeling it's a 'him'. More so, I got a feeling it could be You-Know-Who but I could be wrong about that." said Alfred as he pouted.

The younger of the two shook his head at his brother's childish antics. "Him or her, it doesn't matter Al. Plus, his name's not cursed. What I do think is, they want you to make a move." At Alfred's puzzled look, he sighed and continued. "You told me that you let slip something to Arthur eh? Something about liking a sassy gal? Well, if this letter," he picked it up and fanned it around in mild disbelief, "really is from him, then he might have mistook that you're too chicken to ask that girl out."

"But I like him! Not some girl off the street!" hissed the ash blond in exasperation.

"I know, but he doesn't! He keeps on thinking that he should give you some space to figure out your own love life as a friend!" Matthew equally returned him. "Didn't you read the last part? He asked you to make a choice, a choice of picking the girl you like and avoid social conflicts which would happen if you picked a guy instead!"

"Mattie, I don't care what other people say!" He threw up his hands to the ceiling. "I just want him to be mine. I want to wish him good morning and good night, I want to cuddle with him on the couch, I want to kiss him soooooo badly..." He began to tug on his hair, face planted down onto Matthew's desk.

"Well, you'd better tell him something. If you don't, he might just find someone else."

At the ultimatum from his wise brother, Alfred's jaw fell slack and his heart sinked.

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><p><strong>Gah, finally finished. The build-up is much harder to articulate into words than I originally thought.<br>Thank you for reading and I hope you have enjoyed it! Also, thank you for the ever lovely reviews!  
>Any suggestions or rants can be made by sending me a PM or message me on FB by the same name.<br>Stay tuned for more!**


	4. Difficult Love

**From A Secret Admirer**

**Chapter 4 : Difficult Love**

Only 24 hours left until the winter prom would commence, throwing most, if not all of the students, into a frenzy. Yet the busiest of them all were still the student council members who were straining to meet up with the last minute preparations and changes, trying their best to make the prom as perfect as can be. The hall was decorated, the sound systems checked, the booths set up and the caterers would come to school three hours before the actual event started.

Arthur was visibly frustrated and was losing his patience by the second. His jaw was squared, shoulders stiff and he had his hands on his hips, creating a portrait of urgency and anger. What was most prominent of his tiresome stance were the big eyebrows furrowed tightly on his face. Alfred think he looked extremely cute this way. But he wisely kept from commenting, if not the president would have him skinned alive in fury, embarrassment and mild sadistic amusement. Not that he would complain at length about those tendencies at all.

With a heavy sigh, Alfred placed a plastic container of food on top of Arthur's schoolbag at the back of the hall. A note which showed 'Eat up Artie!' was taped on it, and Alfred hoped that the president would at least eat the sandwiches he had made so as to not starve himself due to work. The American had noticed the Brit getting skinnier ever since the winter prom was given the green light, so he took it upon himself to keep his friend healthy.

There was not anything wrong with that right? Nothing weird either? Of course, making a homemade lunch for your friend in need was a normal occurrence. Right?

No matter which way he cut it, Alfred was still in love with Arthur, and he could not deny that there was little hope in his heart that he would be loved back. For now, just for now so as to not destroy the friendship they had, he would treat him only as a mate and nothing more.

His shoes hit the cold linoleum floor of the halls with sharp taps as he headed back to class. Speaking of which, he hadn't seen the president in class for quite a while. They tended to bicker about the smallest things, especially in history lesson when things like the Roses War and the American Revolution were taught. Somehow, they both knew more facts about these events than their droning teacher. He also missed teasing the smaller blond and how he would become a little blushing ball of spitfire or how his words were constantly countered by sarcastic witty remarks. Hell, even Arthur teasing him about becoming fat would be greeted by a hug this moment.

He saw his brother Matthew at his desk, poring over some notes for the next lesson. Seriously, he worked too hard. Like Arthur. Yeah, they should relax a little. Live life. Matthew had been asked out by several girls (who probably mistook him for Alfred) to prom, but he politely declined them all, saying that he had other plans for that night. Alfred himself had been asked, but he was not as polite as his sweet brother, merely shrugged the clingy girls off.

It should not have been a big surprise to the blue-eyed blond to find a letter, neatly folded and prim on his desk after three others being delivered in the same way. Tentatively, he picked up the letter in his hands, heart beating wildly in his chest at the anticipation of reading the next words.

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><p><em>I want to see you. I want to see you now. But, I don't have the courage to express my love in the slightest, always afraid to take the first step. There's no point in reaching my hand towards you, for I think that you will not like it if I do, and all will end in failure. Failure, which I now fear. <em>

_I want to see you. I want to see you even if it's just an illusion of you, just a hallucination, just a shadow. I want to see you even if your image which is presented to me is fake. That's how desperate I am. But, that's not enough, it will never be enough because I want to express my love. _

_Even as I wish upon the bright stars in the sky, nothing seems to be solved, my love will not be reciprocated and I am still afraid of being the one to confess. _

_The one-way red thread of fate, today I shall tie it to you again. Though I told myself it would not be surprising even if my wish does not come true, I harbour the hope of you recognising my love one day. _

_I knew I just couldn't. I couldn't do it, I knew that even when I was penning my previous letter to you. I couldn't lie to myself, I couldn't because it hurt more than it should have knowing you love someone else and I was egging you on. Encouraging you to leave me behind and move forward._

_My heart is filled with you. _

_Without asking you I had fell for you; I'm to blame for it. So I won't ask you anything at all, I will keep my distance when needed. Just seeing your figure, watching your gestures and hearing your voice are enough for me. Because, you know, since I fell in love, those alone have made me feel uneasy. And I do not wish to get hurt by you, no matter how much I convince myself that it would not happen. _

_Having you all for myself is too much to ask, isn't it? A selfish little prick I am, a true idiot. _

_"Is it destiny?" I'm confusing myself, thinking that way. As I've never experienced something like this in my life, changes might come rapidly, bringing with them pain and sacrifice or happiness and glory. Yet, I cannot say I hate the world in the slightest. Since that day, I haven't cared about others except you. I couldn't give a thought to what happens in other parts of the world. _

_The more I love you, the more I can't give up on love._

_I dare myself to solve the difficult question, yet it can't be helped. I am still head over heels in love and unable to confess. It would take time a little, but, there's no time limit on love, right?_

_I'm not crying at all, despite what you may think! I haven't even given up yet! I knew I just couldn't, I couldn't lie to myself, for my heart is filled with you to the brim, threatening to spill out any moment. _

_I'm sorry, but I can't stop loving you._

_When it comes to this, I want to tell you "I love you" in front of the whole school for them to know and keep away from you as I am possessive. Love should be free, right? There are no limitations or rules that need to be dutifully followed in this subject, nor will I succumb to any scrutionizing stares. I don't need to back away from it any longer. _

_Though I'm still in this one-sided love, someday I want to, no, definitely will tell it to you.I want to close the distance little by little, so I can stand in front of you without shame. Till we meet again and my courage has been properly nurtured, I'll tell you that I love you. No one knows what will happen, no one can guess. _

_Without asking your permission, I have chosen my goal as I like. This is "the answer" I provided by myself. Someday, I want to hand it in to you. _

_Someday, I want to tell you about the love I have decided to pursue. _

_From,  
>A secret admirer.<em>

* * *

><p>His throat was constricted, dry. His legs were doing little to hold him up and he realised that he had sunk into his chair whilst he was reading the letter. Slowly, he let out a shaky breath he didn't know that he was holding, clenched the letter close to his painful heart and screwed his eyes tightly.<p>

Was this how he felt? Was this really how Arthur felt about it? This friendship of theirs which they have to skirt around, this so-called 'unrequited' love. His blunt nails dug into his palms at the sheer force he was exerting.

What about him? Had Arthur ever thought about him? Had he ever wondered about the truth and not the blatant lies that he had told? Alfred loved him. Alfred loved **him**, and no one else. All he could think about was him, every breath he took was dedicated to loving him.

He briefly pondered how he should feel at the moment. Angry that Arthur made a decision to give him space? Happy that Arthur felt the same? Sad that he was going to lose Arthur?

Unbidden, the conversation held with Matt the other day flew into his mind. _"Well, you'd better tell him something. If you don't, he might just find someone else." _He didn't want that. He didn't want the feisty president to find someone else.

_'I want him all for myself, to hell if people don't accept us or if I'm acting selfish!'_

Opening his eyes to show off clear blue orbs, Alfred F. Jones decided he was going to end this game once and for all.

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><p><strong>Cut! The last chapter will hopefully be out soon, ladies and gents.<strong>

**Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting! Love you guys!  
>As always, any rants or suggestions can be made by sending me a PM or message me on FB by the same name. <strong>

**Last chapter's a weird one!**


	5. You know I love you, right?

**From A Secret Admirer**

**Chapter 5 : You know I love you, right?**

For such an important person in charge of an event, Arthur proved very difficult to find indeed. It was the big day, the day of the year-end winter prom, attracting young lads and lassies dressed in their very finest attending. Alfred himself was in a simple dark blue shirt, pressed black blazer accompanied by black slacks and his only pair of dinner shoes. He had never liked these stuffy formal wears nor had he the intention of wearing them, possibly, ever again.

_'It's not like I do this for anyone, Arthur. You'd better accept me.' _were the words that rang true in his head. Oddly enough, he was reminded of his first received letter. Didn't Arthur tell him the same thing? Something about transforming himself just to suit him, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. Unbidden, a small smile crept onto his face knowing that they shared some similarities. _'Like they say, love is blind.' _He kept on searching for the other blond.

As soon as he had stepped into school grounds, that was all he had been doing. Looking for Arthur. You see, Alfred Jones had a minor plan in his head for the night. He was going to find Arthur, pull him aside, confess his feelings and charm him. Well, not really a plan but they were guidelines in the very least. However, his 'plan' could not be put into action if he couldn't find the green-eyed beauty in the first place.

Checking once more in the gym, the American slammed the door shut. He had been to almost everywhere! The hall, the field, the classrooms, the hallways, the cafeteria, the nurse's office, even the student council office where he was once again unceremoniously shooed by Francis and Kiku. Who knew that school was so big? And, why did it seem like Arthur was consciously avoiding him? Did he really not want to see, let alone talk, to him? It had been so long since their last casual chat together, what with Arthur's presidential duties and flaring temper which pushed Alfred away.

Let it be known that Alfred F. Jones never gave up, but he was about to chuck in the towel at the absurdity of it all. He liked Arthur a lot, more than a lot. Hell, he was most probably head over heels in love with him and he hoped that the other party felt as strongly as he did. Though, judging from those letters written from the heart, he probably was. Alfred was happy that the guy he had been crushing on would reciprocate his feelings, but Arthur had stated he needed some time. He needed time to make the first move, which he was afraid of doing.

But that was fine to Alfred. Arthur needn't take the first step, because he will. Arthur didn't need to worry about what their relationship would do to Alfred's reputation, because he didn't give a toss to what others think about him. Arthur didn't need to worry about his side of the family, because his parents and Mattie were very understanding. Arthur wouldn't need to worry about his safety or his well-being, because he was going to protect the petite blond with all he had. Arthur shouldn't be afraid of his feelings, because he felt the exact same way.

Slowly, Alfred slid down the wall he had been leaning on, landing quietly on the floor with his face buried between his knees. He felt hopeless at this moment, the adrenaline starting to drain from his body. Bringing up a hand, he massaged the bridge of his nose in agony.

"Alfred? What in heaven's name are you sitting there for?" And all at once, his pain and desperation were washed away by the lilt of a British voice. He snapped his head in its direction, coming face to face with the very Arthur Kirkland whom he had been searching for the whole night. That, and his crush was looking hot. Dressed in an impeccably pressed black suit and matching pants, he too wore a soft green shirt matched with a tie the colour of his eyes and brown loafers. On his left wrist was a dimmed gold watch which looked very expensive. He had a hand on his curvy hip, his brows furrowed and face settled into his trademark scowl. To Alfred, he was simply breathtaking.

"I-I..um..." was his most intelligent answer. Alfred mentally slapped himself as he saw Arthur's green eyes blink in confusion. Getting up and dusting himself, he looked sheepishly to the other's face. "I was just looking for you actually."

Arthur raised one brow in confusion. "And why, Alfred, would you be looking for me? Should you not be enjoying time with your date?" A smug smirk settled onto his soft pink lips, lips which Alfred wanted to badly capture. "I was the one who prepared this event, mind you. It is spectacular in every sense."

"Oh. Yeah... Yeah, I mean it's really great and all! You've done a real good job there Artie!" He flashed him his best smile and was mildly pleased to find him blushing slightly.

"I've told you before. Don't call me that." he turned his face away. "Git."

Alfred couldn't help it. He let out a raucous laugh which reverberated off the empty grey walls of the hallway. God, Arthur was just too cute. Right before another retort slipped out of the Brit's mouth, Alfred held a hand up to stop him and took a deep breath. "Mind reading this? I need some help with it. Yanno, English and stuff I'm not good at." He handed Arthur a folded piece of paper.

Slim fingers snatched the paper away. "Did you spend the whole night looking for me just so you could have me correct your atrocious grammar mistakes?" asked Arthur in an incredulous voice as he waved the white sheet.

Alfred merely shrugged, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. "Don't wanna look stupid now, would I?"

"I suppose not," came the cool reply. Small hands clutching the paper, Arthur's slim fingers deftly opened and straightened the paper. His green eyes ran over the words. Once. Twice. By the third time, his eyes were wide as dinner plates and his face was redder than a tomato.

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><p><em>Dear Secret Admirer,<em>

_You know I love you too, right? _

_From,  
>A (not so)secret admirer.<em>

* * *

><p>Seeing as Arthur was still in a daze, Alfred stepped forward, effectively minimising the distance between them. "Arthur..." No response. "Arthur, please look at me..." His tone was pleading and placating.<p>

At the moment he did do as Alfred said, the American's heart almost broke. There were unshed tears swimming in those emerald orbs, his cheeks and neck were burnt red, his hands were trembling badly. Without thinking, Alfred gathered the smaller male in his arms, hugging the life out of him. "Arthur? Arthur did I do something wrong? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never should have assumed anything. I'm sorry..." was his constant mantra.

What had he done? The letters never were from Arthur were they? He was an idiot for assuming such things! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now he had made his best friend cry by telling him he loved him out of the blue! _'Argh, what an idiot!' _Alfred wanted to die right then and there, first from the guilt of making this beautiful person cry and then the embarrassment he had brought upon himself. He was just about to let go, apologise and do anything to make it up to Arthur when he heard... laughing?

Pulling away, blue eyes scanned the image of an Arthur who was laughing hysterically into a clenched fist, trying but failing to conceal the sounds of amusement. Right there and then Alfred decided that he loved the sound and wanted to hear more of it. But first, to find out why the hell there was laughter in the hallways instead of angry shouts.

"Arthur?..." His voice was hesitant and careful. "Arthur, are you okay?"

The smaller male shook his head, making his already messy hair more tousled. Slightly out of breath, he panted. "No... no, it's nothing Alfred. There's nothing wrong with me." He turned those green orbs to Alfred who felt his heart miss a beat. "I think the only problem I have is to have fallen in love with a complete idiot."

It took a while for Alfred to absorb this new information. "Wait.. you- you what?" he stammered. "You've fallen for... for..." Dare he say it?

Gracious, Arthur decided to save him from gaping like a fish. "Yes love. I've fallen for you." A pale hand reached up to caress a tan cheek. "Though I must say, good job finding out who it was." he teased.

The breath he had been holding was exhaled, lungs finally filled with the cool air around them. "It was easy! You write like you anyway. Plus," Alfred lifted Arthur off his feet, earning a yelp and an embarrassed face. He slowly let the other male down, rubbing their noses together. "you're adorable when you try to sneak looks at me."

"I do not! Where in the world did you get an idea like that?!" shouted the Brit, arms crossed against his chest in a huff.

Alfre laughed once more, hands never letting go of that slim waist. "Yes, you do. And I confess that I do the same too. I especially like to check out your ass."

"You. Bloody. Git!" punches were thrown and Alfred tried to duck for his life. "Forget I said anything! You're a bloody idiot who does not deserve to be this attractive!"

"Did you just call me attractive, Mr. Kirkland?" asked the American playfully as he wagged his brows. "Didn't know my body looked so good, Artie."

Arthur heaved a sigh. "Drop dead, you imbecile."

"Not a chance." Somehow, he was still smiling brightly at the whole situation.

"I hate you, Alfred Jones."

A brief kiss to the other blond's forehead. "No problem, I still love you."

Arthur blushed heavily, his eyes darted around the place, avoiding Alfred the best he could. Which was difficult considering he was right in the arms of said person. "G-git..." He turned his attention to a poster on the far wall. "Iloveyouaswell." came out in a jumbled whisper, just enough for Alfred to catch it.

A soft smile graced Alfred's features. "So... can I have a kiss now?"

"You have no tact, do you American?"

"And you're way too stuffy, you Brit."

"Well, I suppose..."

"...one wouldn't hurt?"

Arthur laughed in a clear voice. "Precisely."

They both leaned in, lips touching gently, softly. Entwined through a shaft of moonlight from the window. It was nothing passionate, nothing suggestive. Just sweet bliss. When they pulled away, both were red and breathless but their hearts were soaring through the skies.

"Hey Arthur?" Alfred asked as he licked his lips, wanting to taste more of a delicious tea-scented Arthur.

Arthur did the same before answering. "Yes love?"

"Promise me that the next time you want to tell me something, say it to my face. It's better than all those cryptic letters."

A smile tugged on the corners of his lips. "Why should I? Do you not find it romantic?"

"It is, but.." Blue met green as Alfred stared at him. "I'm an idiot remember?"

An exaggerated sigh. "That you are. But you're my idiot."

"And you're my unmasked secret admirer."

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><p><strong>That's a wrap! Longest chapter by far and shortest letter by far.<br>****Thank you all for reading, following, favouriting and reviewing! I hope you have enjoyed this simple story.  
><strong>**Until the next time we meet, dear readers!**


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